"Ian," I said, begging him on the inside to at least acknowledge me. "Ian. Ian, please?" Finally, he looked at me. His eyes were different. They were sadder. Darker. I had a ton of questions, but only one came out. "Do you hate me?"

I watched as her 'puppet' danced to the movement of her delicate fingers, fingers i longed to hold. The invisible strings tugging at him, making him move. Everything else was stopped. I smiled at her, happy she was no longer only a dream.